Toddler Shenanigans
by Carrie's Demise
Summary: "What happened to your aging potion?" The Potions Master's expression was alarmed and slightly fearful as he leaned over the cauldron. "I don't know!" Harry's voice cracked with his increasing anxiety. (deaged!Harry, OOC!Pansy, Post-DE, Genfic)


**A/N: It might be about time for me to start a new fic. I've had my eye on my one-shot, Starry Thoughts, so I threw all caution to the wind and decided to write a fic about it. One thing changed: Ron didn't do anything to the cauldron.**

 **Post-Deathly Hallows. Deaged!Harry. OOC!Pansy. Good!Ron, for once. Genfic/no pairing in particular, no romance. Maybe Malfoy, Twins, and Hermione bashing. While I like to see bashing of Ron and Dumbledore, I like seeing them not evil even more.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

With a long-suffering sigh, Harry carefully put Ron's hand back down on the Potions' class workbench. "No, Ron," he said gently. "That particular ingredient will cause the potion to be useless." For once, the two were actually trying in the class. After missing a year of classes and a massive battle that destroyed Hogwarts (and decimated the Death Eaters as well as Voldemort at the same time), their entire year had been invited back to Hogwarts to take or retake their N.E. at reduced costs.

"Oh," Ron looked stupefied at the knowledge, but he also looked like he was genuinely trying for once. Hermione merely shot him a heartbroken and irritated look. Any attraction he had to the curly-haired witch was pretty much destroyed in his new determination to become a Healer. Both Harry and Ron wanted to go into the Healer's program after Hogwarts, although Hermione couldn't understand why they switched over from wanting to be Aurors to Healers.

Both of them were honestly sick of all the fighting, but they wanted some kind of adrenaline rush. They liked that people would need them, so what wouldn't be better than being an Auror? A Healer, of course. Ron wanted to go into mediwizardry, while Harry wanted to open his own clinical practice. A kind of open clinic where people could come in and get rapid treatment. Or maybe a surgical practice. Ron would be his mediwizard, which would help a lot. He would also need a lot of other Healers, surgeons, mediwizards, and mediwitches at that.

Everyone in the class had to choose one potion from the board and recreate it. They could shorten, lengthen, or modify the process to however they liked it, but the potion had to be _perfect_ if they wanted to get a passing grade. Both Harry and Ron couldn't afford to fail the class. While Snape had survived the war, Ron's brother and Harry's godfather, did not. The old Headmaster had been found wandering the Forbidden Forest in dazed confusion not long after the war was deemed over.

Once found, it was an utterly baffling situation. The man should be dead! The only conclusion that Harry, Ron, and Hermione could reach was that the Headmaster was neither Albus nor Aberforth. Then who the hell took his place? It was either a younger sibling, a twin, a Polyjuiced person, or someone glamoured to look exactly like Albus Dumbledore. It also raised the question of who actually died.

In regards to the current situation, the black-haired eighteen year old was studying his list of instructions in confusion. He was absolutely positive that he had followed his instructions to a T. How on earth did his Potion turn to such a vivid shade of red from the cool blue it was supposed to be? He tilted his head as he picked up on a few faint snickers, a frown forming on his face as he turned to look around the classroom suspiciously. What the hell?

Nibbling on his lip worriedly, Harry didn't notice the concerned look that his red-headed neighbor shot him. "Harry, what's wrong?" Ron inquired softly, carefully chopping his basil leaves.

"Someone put in an unidentified ingredient in my cauldron, and now I'm not sure what's going on," Harry answered quickly, working as fast as he could to counteract whatever had been tossed into the incomplete potion.

"Potter, what are you doing?" a sneering drawl asked above the green-eyed boy's head. Harry jumped quite visibly, keyed up from the mistake in his brass cauldron.

"Trying to save my potion," Harry answered in a rush, filtering through his ingredient bottles and swiftly reading through their labels. An unknown ingredient in his cauldron... He wasn't sure if it was a good kind of change or terrible kind of change. A swift glance over the large cauldron had him moving even faster.

It was slowly simmering, gradually shifting into a boil. It wasn't supposed to do that so close to its completion!

"Potter?" Severus Snape's voice was now alarmed.

"What?" the eighteen-year-old snapped, dragging a hand through his perpetually messy hair. With the addition of his hand, it only increased the look of his already stressed, haggard appearance.

"What happened to your aging potion?" The Potions Master's expression was alarmed and slightly fearful as he leaned over the cauldron.

"I don't know!" Harry's voice cracked with his increasing anxiety.

Ron couldn't help but note that Malfoy's face blanched from his position in front of the Weasley.

All of a sudden, an ominous hissing echoed throughout the classroom. Almost automatically, Harry raised a shield in around his working station. Scrambling backward, Snape's back collided with his dungeon wall. Onyx eyes were wide in surprise and worry. What ingredient had been put into the cauldron? His sharp eyes connected with the smug, but frightened expression of his godson.

"What did you do?" the black-haired man gripped Draco by the chin, forcing the Malfoy boy's flinty eyes to meet his own.

"Nothing that Potter didn't deserve," he spat in return.

"What ingredient did you throw into his cauldron?" Severus' voice was a furious growl.

With an almighty _boooooom!_ the cauldron exploded within the shield its contents spilling over the Potter scion. Everyone in the room froze at the sound, before an agonized whimper could be heard from the black-haired boy.

" _HARRY!_ " Ron's voice rose above the frantic yells of the other students.

TODDLERSHENANIGANS/TODDLERSHENANIGANS

A pained whimper escaped him as the potion collided with his skin, totally coating the eighteen year old but over-all not making any contact outside of the shield. Briefly, a hint of satisfaction flashed across his mind, but at the same time an agonizing burning sensation rushed through his nerves and brushed up beneath his skin.

His stomach roiled and burned, causing Harry to let out another agonized whimper and faintly hear the shout of his best friend. Best... friend? Why did he have a best friend? With that last weak thought, Harry collapsed and surrendered to oblivion.

TODDLERSHENANIGANS/TODDLERSHENANIGANS

Pansy Parkinson could only watch in fascinated horror as the potion exploded all over the boy behind her. Almost automatically, she found herself moving at the same time as the Weasley boy. Kneeling next to Potter, her keen eyes widened at the sight of the black-haired man's skin bubbling and his bones growing smaller. A horrible sinking feeling washed over her as she realized that Potter was actually getting _younger._ It was like the years were draining from the rather feminine-looking young man until he resembled a quite adorable toddler.

Absently running a thumb across one of his cheekbones, Pansy watched the now young child from behind her bangs. He seemed totally dead to the world. The Parkinson heiress absently registered the soft cries of "HarryHarryHarry, oh Harry what did that Malfoy chit do" from the Prewett heir beside her. Despite Ron Weasley being the youngest male, it was a tradition that the Prewett titles, monies, and properties to go to the youngest male of the family. Now that it was extant in females, the title would appropriately go to Molly Weasley, who passed it on through her genes.

"It was that new ingredient you got recently!" Pansy's head shot up in alarm, knowing that Basilisk venom was an extremely rare ingredient. There was also an incredibly limited supply of it, so it must have been as expensive as real 24 carat diamonds. Snape's face blanched even further.

"You idiotic imbecile," he hissed, his voice just as venomous as the creature. "Basilisk venom makes a potion _permanent_ and you _knew_ that was the last of my supply! It's also so incredibly potent that it causes someone to lose their memories when added to a potion such as the aging potion! There is a reason why it is only added to the Potion of Memory."

Permanent? Memory loss?

Ron Weasley's face blanched heavily, and Pansy was remarkably slow in her realization. Once it hit her like a brick in the face, she was hovering over the child as protectively as the freckled red-head.

No-one but them would be getting anywhere _close_ to Hadrian James Potter.


End file.
